


Dread

by Suphomie



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Captivity, Dark, Experiments, Heart Disease, M/M, Made up medical crap, Needles, Past Murder, Restraints, Stiles has a heart problem, Stiles is a human chimera, experimental treatment, medical kink ?, mixed parts, sociopath!Theo, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:12:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7857667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suphomie/pseuds/Suphomie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a heart problem. And there's no cure. He has a few months to live, not that living in a cramped apartment with rats is much of a life, though.</p><p>Then he met Theo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dread

**Author's Note:**

> I have no knowledge on anything related to medication or hearts, so this is mostly just made up crap. Sorry.

Stiles walks crookedly down the sidewalk, one hand clutching his chest, the other clutching his sweatshirt to make sure his hood stays on. He's getting a few strange looks. But not nearly as much as he would if he took down his hood.

He shouldn't have left the confines of the abandoned house he's squatting in. He didn't plan on it. But then his chest started to ache, and his head started to pound. He thought that maybe he could just go out to the pharmacy and pick up some of the rack painkillers, just to ease him for a little while. But it seems even this short walk he can't manage.

_Stiles life turned into some shitty soap opera when he turned nineteen. His father died, then he got diagnosed with some rare heart disease that doesn't have a cure. His dad only left him so much money, so he couldn't pay for the treatment to prolong his life. The doctor gave him roughly four months to live._

_He dropped out of college, and moved into a cheaper apartment. He was pretty content to just lie on his couch and wait to die, but then his landlord told him if he didn't pay next months rent, he'd be forced to evict him. So, instead of being homeless in his last months of existence, he decided to get a job._

_Then he saw a newspaper ad for a lab assistant. It payed decent, and Stiles knew enough about science. He went in for the interview._

Stiles basically stumbles into the pharmacy, still clutching at his heart. It feels like his chest is collapsing onto itself. Which is pretty common, but it's still painful. Especially when he's been off treatment for so long. Stiles walks to the back of the store, ignoring the looks, nearly tripping over his own feet, holding onto the shelves for support.

He knocks through the little bottles of pills. They're all so weak, he knows. But maybe they can just make the pain a bit more dull. 

"Sir?" A voice behind him says. Stiles doesn't look over, hood still covering most of face. His brain is banging against his skull, he can't speak, he can hardly even think. "You need to take off your hood, sir."

Stiles only shakes his head. No. No one can see him. He picks up a bottle of the strongest painkillers he can find, before the guy who works here says, "sir, I'm sorry, it's store policy."

Stiles takes in a deep breath. He slowly reaches up with shaky hands to his head, and pulls his black hood down. He can see the mans shocked reaction from the corner of his eye. He expected as much. Only one of his eyes are his own, the other is icy blue. He has a long scar going across his left cheek. He looks crazy.

_Stiles' boney finger touches the cold silver doorbell in front of him. He steps back, and stares at the black double doors in front of him. He wishes he'd called the guys number first, but the ad only had an adress. So Stiles waits hesitantly on the porch, ready to run at any moment._

_Then the doors swing open. Stiles jumps a bit, then look in surprise at the young man standing in side of the grand house. he must be Stiles' age, with styled dirty blonde hair, and a muscular stature. He asks, "Who are you?" And his voice is deep and raspy. He crosses his arms and leans against his doorway._

_Stiles reaches into his hoodie pocket, and pulls out the crumpled up ad he cute out of the paper. He brought it for good measure, and because in the movies this is how it always goes. The guylooks him up and down, then asks again, "who are you?" but this time more drawn out and slow._

_Stiles swallows his spot, along with a bit of blood, and says, "I'm Stiles. I- uh- want the job. For the lab assistant."_

_The guy looks him over once more. Stiles probably won't get the job if this guy is basing it all on looks. He almost turns around and just leaves to save any humiliation, but then the guy says, "Come in."_

The man just slowly backs away from Stiles, not knowing what to possibly say. Stiles is really in too much agony to give a shit, though, he knows what he looks like. He has more pressing matters on his mind right now, like how his heart might be shutting down. It's been well over four months, and without Theo's treatment, his heart might just give out any second.

Stiles stumbles clumsily over to the counter. He drops about seven bottles of painkillers onto the table, and ignores the woman staring at his scar. He takes money out from his bloodied Jean pocket, and drops it all onto the table.

The woman doesn't take it, though. She doesn't ring him up. Stiles wants to scream at her and tell her he needs to be quick, he can't be out too long, or else Theo might find him. Stiles stares at a mirror behind the counter. The woman is saying something but it sounds distorted, like he's underwater. He's too focused on the mirror. He can see the front window of the stores through it. He can see people walking past it. And he can see Theo standing across the street.

Stiles stares in horror. He doesn't know if he's hallucinating from lack of sleep or if Theo tracked him some how, but he's terrified. He turns back to the woman as she says, "sir, you're bleeding, are you alright?" Stiles reaches up and wipes the stream of blood coming out of his nose that he didn't know was there.

"Can I buy these please," Stiles pleads desperately, staring at the mirrors reflection with scared eyes. Theo's just standing there. He knows. He knows Stiles is here, and Stiles needs to run, but he can barely stand right now, and Theo's always been faster.

The woman stares at him with a confused, slightly concerned expression. "Okay," she murmurs, focusing on ringing him up, instead of having to focus on him or his monster face. She does it quickly, then hands Stiles the bag. Stiles doesn't say another word before he pulls his hood back up and clumsily makes his way out of the store.

He doesn't look at Theo when he leaves, though he's 100% positive Theo's here for him, this isn't some random encounter. It hurts so fucking much to move, let alone run, but he goes as quickly as possible. He can feel Theo's prescense right behind him, as he darts into a back alley. That's when he collaspes on the concrete.

Then Theo picks him up. Pulls him into a sitting position against the wall, then crouches in front of him. Stiles is shaking in pain, as his heart has trouble thumping. Theo pulls the hood off his head, and brushes the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead back gently. "You look exhausted," is what he says.

"Go away," Stiles says weakly, clutching at his heart, that's definetly about to explode inside of him. But he rather that than go back to Theo's treatment once a day. He rather die.

"You're dying," Theo says, matter of factly, poking at Stiles' aching chest, feeling it out like they're in a doctors office, "the longer you don't have treatment, the sicker you'll get. You'll be dead in two days."

Stiles groans in pain, and that makes Theo put a hand over his heart. "You'll be fine," Theo says quietly, confidently. He pulls something out of his pocket. Stiles knows exactly what he has. He struggles as best he can, but he's too weak, too exhausted to really get away. Theo plunges a needle into in his neck and a second later everything goes black.

_Theo hired Stiles after an extremely short interview. He asked him two questions. "Do you have a problem with blood?" And "Are you willing to keep quiet about what you see?" Which Stiles answered no, then yes, and Theo hired him on the spot. He then took him into his basement, which looked like an evil doctors torture chamber, and showed him all of his tools._

_Stiles retuned everyday. He stayed for twelve hours, and sometimes stayed the night, they got so caught up in work. Which, as Theo has said, was something that should be kept quiet. It started relatively small. They tested Theo's serums on animals. Then- well, then Theo has an idea._

_He said that the serums were better tested on humans instead. So they took turns testing them on eachother. Which usually ended in rashes and sometimes blood shed. Nothing too crazy, though. It was fun. Really fun. It seemed they were in there own little world, alone in Theo's lab. Theo really had no endgame, he just liked creating shit. That was, until he found out about Stiles' heart problem._

Stiles woke up on a hard metal chair. He knew instantly where he was, even before opening his eyes. He's spent countless hours tied to this chair. He tries tugging his arms, but to no avail, as his wrists were tied down by familiar leather cuffs. He tries to sigh, but it turns into a whimper. Then he notices Theo moving around the tables behind him.

"Relax," Theo says, stepping closer and placing a couple of tools on the little metal table next to him. Stiles glances down at his bare chest, and winced when he sees familiar suction cup wires connected to his chest. He tries to pull his head up but it's strapped down. 

"Don't," Stiles whispers, as Theo sets down various needles on the table. "Theo, I'm not gonna die, just- stop?"

"You were gonna die," Theo clarifies, resting a hand on Stiles' stomach. "Breath in," he commands, and Stilss does. He moves his hand over to his heart, and says, "again," and Stiles does. Then Theo picks up a needle and flicks it. Stiles eyes it nervously.

_Stiles is carrying a box full of jars of venom, when his chest contracts, and he drops it, spilling the dangerous venom all over the floor. It's three weeks into his job with Theo. Theo looks over from his table with a confused look._

_"What's wrong with you?" He asks, crossing his arms, "why can't you lift anything?"_

_Stiles is tempted to say that he's just weak, but he figures Theo will find out eventually when Stiles just drops dead in the lab in a few months. He sighs and says, "I have a heart thing. It hurts sometimes."_

_Theo nods. "Anything serious?"_

_Stiles just shrugs. "It doesn't have a cure. And the doctor gave me four months to live."_

_Theo's eyebrows raise in surprise. Then he gets this look on his face like he's just got an idea. He steps over to another desk and picks up a needle. Stiles looks at him with vague concern. "What's that for?"_

_Theo steps over, making sure to step over the toxic venom on the floor, and stands a few feet away from Stiles. "Lean closer," Theo commands. Stiles hesitantly does. Then Theo reaches his hand up, and rests it on Stiles' neck. Stiles stares at him with mild confusion, before he stuffs the needle into a vein on Stiles' neck._

_Stiles whole body flares up in agony. He screams, and falls to the floor, convulsing violently. Theo's there, and holds him wrists down, as Stiles' eyes roll back into his head and his bites down on his tongue. "It hurts like hell the first time," Theo is saying, voice casual, "but it'll help with the pain. Promise."_

"Now will you relax?" Theo says, lowering the needle to Stiles' neck. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut. It's never hurt as bad as that first time, but it sure as hell doesn't feel good. The needle goes in, and Stiles groans in pain, as the hot liquid sores through his veins and all through his body.

Theo puts the needle back onto the table, and puts his hand on Stiles' chest again. Stiles opens his eyes when the pain is at a managable level, and stared at Theo with a pained look. "Why did you even find me? Why didn't you just leave me to die?" Stiles asks in a low voice.

Theo shrugs casually. He pokes at Stiles' pelvis, as he answers, "couldn't let you go, I guess. You're my little experiment," he says almost fondly, as he strokes Stiles chest lovingly.

Stiles groans again, as Theo moves over to the table again. He takes out a little glass case, and Stiles knows exactly what that is too. He squeezes his eyes shut in retaliation, but Theo just laughs. "Do you want that eye to rot out of your skull? Open it up."

_"Pass me that beaker," Theo mutters, goggles on, gloved hand reaching out towards Stiles. Stiles picks a beaker filled with blue smoking liquid. "And put on your goggles? You're gonna burn your eyes."_

_Stiles rolls his eyes. "I'm fine," he mutters, swirling something clear around in a jar, "you're the one mixing dangerous shit together."_

_Theo doesn't seem to even hear him, so concentrated on his experiment. Stiles pours vinegar into a jar of wolfsbane, but nothing happens. He sighs, bored, and looks back at whatever Theo's doing._

_"Can you hand me the acid?" Theo asks, dropping something else into his concoction. Stiles looks around the table. Then he spots the large jar of acid on a high shelf a couple feet away. Stiles sighs, and climbs ontop of one of the lab tables._

_Stiles reaches for the heavy jar. Then Theo says something and the jar tips. So does Stiles. The jar was open. The next thing he knows, Stiles is on the ground, screaming, a blinding pain in his left eye and cheek. Theo drops what he's doing, the glass shattering on the floor, and rushes over._

_Stiles screams at the top of his lungs, and clutches his burning eye. Theo is calm above him. Really calm. "Stop screaming," he says, pushing Stiles' hand away, and examining Stiles' sizzling eye._

_"I can't see!" Stiles screams, grasping at Theo's arms, as Theo tries to force his scolding eye open to assess the damage. But God damnit it hurts. Stiles is wailing, squirming on the floor._

_"Fuck," Theo mutters, staring into it. "It's all burned out, Stiles, it's fucking melting into-" he stops when Stiles looks terrified. He rubs the scar mark under his eye where he just got burned. "Get up, let's get it patched up."_

_-_

_A week later Stiles is laying on his couch with a bandage on his left eye, when he hears a knock at the door. He sighs, and stands. Probably just his landlord. But when he opens the door, it's Theo._

_"Hey, Theo," he says, sort of confused. He gave him the week off to heal a bit, and he rarely makes house calls. Theo shoves his way in, and Stiles just closes the door behind him._

_"I have a surprise for you," Theo says with a smirk. Stiles looks at him in concern. He realizes that Theo's holding something behind his back. This could go down bad, depending what it is. Theo pulls out a jar of liquid, and Stiles looks closely at it curiously. He's shocked when he sees an eye floating around in it._

_"Jesus Christ," Stiles mutters, stepping back. Theo smiles brightly at him, like this is the most exciting thing in the world. "Where'd you get that?" He asks._

_"I made it," Theo says, lifting it up a bit. Stiles looks at it again. That's.. Impressive. Weird. But impressive. "It's for you. So you can see again?"_

_Stiles eye widens in surprise. Theo smiles again. "You like it?" He asks, like this is a normal gift, not an eyeball he made in his basement._

_Stiles nods shakily. ".. Yeah."_

Stiles blinks the eye drops out of his line of vision. They don't hurt. They're just to keep his monster eye from drying up. Though he wishes it would. He hates it. It makes him look like Theo's lab creation. Which he supposed he is. The guy who should be dead, but is being kept alive by Theos creations. It's disgusting.

Theo ruffles Stiles hair a bit, then says, "I know you hate this, but you'll die without it," he turns on his machine, "so bear through it. It's just for a minute, then we can go upstairs, and you can lay down in bed. Sound good?"

__

Stiles shakes in fear. This fucking machine. It's the only thing keeping him alive, and he fucking despises it. It started as something they used on Stiles once in a while, because it was so painful. But then Stiles started getting sicker. So then once a week. Then everyday. And it left Stiles completely immobile and in a constant state of intense pain.

"Theo, please, please," he cries, struggling against his restraints, "I'm okay, it doesn't even hurt anymore, really, I don't need-" 

"Stiles, calm down," Theo says, stroking his cheek softly, lovingly. Stiles bucks hard, as Theo scratches his head gently, "it won't be so bad. You just need to relax." 

Stiles can't say anything else before Theo puts a metal bar in his mouth to stop him from biting his tongue off. Then he cranks up the machine. 

_Stiles lays in Theo's huge bed, clutching his chest. Theo just gave him twenty new shots to test if any of them could relieve his pain. None of them did, and they all just made him sicker._

_There's a noise from outside. Stiles painfully moves his head to the door. Theo comes in a minute later, holding two boxes. He places them down next to the dresser. Stiles props his head up with his elbow. "What's that?" He asks. They never spend time in the bedroom, he wonders what boxes he'd need for here._

_"Your stuff," Theo says, leaving the room again, and returning with another big cardboard box. Stiles shoots him a confused look. "You're moving in," Theo clarifies, sitting at the edge of the bed next to Stiles._

_"Am I?" Stiles asks, then stops and coughs up a little blood onto his sleeve. "Were you gonna tell me?"_

_Theo shrugs. "You're always here anyways. Why pay for an apartment when you can live here for free?" Stiles eyebrows raise. Theo continues, "we're gonna start daily treatments, too. You're not getting better. We're definetly doing sometime wrong."_

_Stiles sighs at that. Another round of experiments. Stiles rests his head back onto the pillow  
_

Stiles' body jolts off the metal chair. He screams against the metal bar, and tugs hard against his cuffs as electricity flows through his veins. His body feels like he's burning from the inside out. He looks to Theo with a look of agony and despair. Theo doesn't shut it off. He just stares as he electricutes his body. 

Stiles nose is bleeding, he can feel it flowing down his chin. His eyes are rolling back into his head. His whole entire body is jolting and burning from the inside. Tears are rolling down his cheeks. Why won't he turn it off? He's killing him. Stiles is gonna die. 

The machine is shut off, and Stiles' body falls back onto the chair. He pants hard, trying to catch a breath that just isn't there. Theo's hands are unclasping the strap around Stiles' head, and he's holding a bucket to his mouth. Stiles vomits violently into it, throwing up nothing but stomach bile and blood. 

Stiles' head falls back down onto the metal. He's panting. He can't breath. God, it hurts. More than anything. Theo unbuckles his cuffs, and rubs his back soothingly. "You're okay," he says sweetly. It makes Stiles' sick.

Theo kisses the top of his head, and says something kindly into his ear. Then he picks him up bridal style, and carries him upstairs. Stiles hangs onto his shirt, dizzy and in so much more pain than he was before. God, he's not right. He shouldn't be alive, and now he's a ducking zombie with mixed body parts. He passes out on the way to the bedroom

 

When he wakes up next, he's in bed. He and Theo's bed. Theo's next to him. Stiles lets out a pained breath. It still hurts. It always hurts for hours afterward. He still feels sick. His heart still feels like it's gonna explode. His eye is dry and scratchy.

"Morning," Theo says with a smirk. He's holding his hand underneath the blankets.

Stiles rests his head against Theo's chest. "Why'd you come find me?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"You're sick," Theo says, "you'll die without me. I want you alive."

Stiles glances up at Theo's face. It's so hard to read if he's serious or lying. "Why?" He asks quietly.

Theo brushes a piece of hair behind Stiles' head. He smiles. "You made be fall in love with you. I don't do that a lot. You shouldn't have flirted with me."

Stiles closes his eyes. "I thought I was gonna die soon."

Theo laughs. "Not anymore, my little experiment," he says, kissing his forehead, "I'm gonna make you live forever."

 

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> ?¿?¿ idk what this was kind of plotless? Lmk if you enjoyed? Doubt you did tho?


End file.
